Crossroad
by Chelsey Nova
Summary: Months after the incident on the red eye, Lisa is engaged to a man she believes she loves, yet she can't end her affair with Jackson. When Lisa discovers she is pregnant, she will make a decision that will destroy everything she has fought for.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: _**As I've previously stated, I do not own Jackson, Lisa, or anything/anyone related to the film Red Eye by Wes Craven. The idea for this story popped into my head one night while I was trying to sleep. I have no idea where it came from, but I couldn't ignore it. I had to write it. Please read and review; I live for feedback!

Yours truly,

Chelsey Nova

_Previously posted under _cheLs0890

P.S. Will Jamison is merely a figment of my imagination, as is the mystery child.

_**Crossroad**_

_"When you're standing at a crossroad_

_There's a choice you've gotta make"_

_- Carrie Underwood "Starts with Goodbye"_

* * *

_She was chasing after the child again._

_She wasn't quite sure how it happened, or why it was happening. All she knew was that this time, she would catch the child._

_Lisa had been lying in the middle of nowhere; at least, nowhere that she recognized. Her body felt pleasantly weightless and lucid, as though she were in between the stages of sleep, where she was concious of the moving world around her, yet uncaring to respond to its desperate call. She was sprawled out upon the mossy carpet of a vast, green meadow and sweet-smelling tufts of lilacs and baby's breath gently cradled her head. A protective, cottony mist blanketed her, and wistfully swirled around her heavy limbs. The soft whistles of a nearby bird calling to its mate rang through Lisa's ears and a slow smile spread across her lips. The warm scent of life and earth drifted into her nose, and she sighed contentedly. _

_She never wanted to leave this peaceful place._

_Just as Lisa was thinking that there was nowhere else she would rather be, an abrupt vibration shook the earth beneath her, and she pushed herself off of the soft ground with her hands. The vibration stopped. Lisa shielded her eyes from the bright sunshine with her hand and gazed all around. Sensing no other life but her own, she laid her head down on the pillow of flowers once more and closed her eyes._

_Whoosh!_

_A sudden gust of cool air tickled the left side of Lisa's body and she shot off of the ground more quickly than she ever thought she'd been capable of. Lisa's green eyes sought out the source of the startling breeze and quickly latched onto a small, fading form donned in a blue dress a few feet ahead. _

_The creature couldn't have been more than three feet tall, and was quite petite in its structure. A bright blue ribbon was loosely tied in the child's long, brown hair until a burst of wind ripped it away and sent it flying past Lisa's face. The faint smell of lavender lingered where the young child had breezed past her only seconds before._

_It was her. _

_A rose-tinted vision, the lavender-scented dream. _

_Yes, the hazy smell of lavender caused Lisa to become familiar with the young girl._

_She always smelled of lavender._

_Lisa's feet took on a life of their own and suddenly sent her barreling after the little girl. Lisa could feel the warm grass breathing rhythmically beneath her bare feet as she ambled after the little elfin girl. The airy sound of the little child's laugh echoed throughout the meadow and the melody reached out its delicate hand and gave Lisa's heart a gentle squeeze. _

_Encouraged by the sweet song of the youth's voice, Lisa's athletic legs began to cover the ground more quickly, closing in on the space left between her and the little mystic girl. _

_It was not long before Lisa was right behind the little girl. The scent of lavender was overwhelming, lightly tingling her nose until she no was no longer breathing in oxygen. Just that scent. That sweet, delectable perfume of innocence and enigma. _

_The young girl's hair, freed from its satiny blue restraints, flew all around the girl, like a brown, rippling waterfall that cascaded to the middle of her back. Lisa's hand reached out and touched a few of the chocolatey brown wisps, and she smiled at their softness on her fingertips. Lisa's hand stretched out even further until it rested on the delicate firmness of the young girl's shoulder. The girl giggled mirthfully at the contact and playfully began to pick up speed. It seemed she liked to be chased._

_But Lisa had been chasing her for far too long._

_She wanted to hold her, to caress her hair._

_She wanted to see her face._

_Lisa's legs pumped wildly beneath her and she reached out, grabbing the girl by her shoulders. They fell to the ground with a soft thud, a giggling heap of soft flesh and feminine marvel. Lisa's laughter subsided as the realization of the situation hit her with full force._

_She had caught the girl._

_The girl was lying on her stomach, and her hair was a messy, chestnut mane that obscured her face from Lisa's vision. Lisa sat up and pulled the little girl into her lap. She rolled her onto her back and tenderly pushed the hair away from her face. The child's laughter immediately ceased and she covered her face with her small hands. _

_Lisa chuckled warmly. "Come on, now. I would like to see your face."_

_Beneath her hands, the little girl solemnly shook her head._

_Lisa persisted. "Pretty please?" she whispered._

_Slowly, the child's hands slid off of her face. Lisa pushed the remaining hair out of the way and gazed at her._

_Lisa screamed._

_The child had no face._

_A whitish blob, a blank canvas was all that existed underneath that beautiful waterfall of hair. There were no eyes, no nose, no light pink cheeks nor a rosebud mouth. _

_All Lisa could see was a creamy, white globe surrounded by velvety curtains of chocolate hair._

_The child had no face._

* * *

Lisa Reisert awoke to the sound of her labored breathing, and to the hot tears that were sliding down her sweat-slicked face. She was trembling; the dream had seemed far too real this time, too close for comfort.

_What in the hell had that all been about, anyway?_

Fearing the answer to that question, Lisa pulled the cotton duvet more tightly around her, and she hugged the material close to her neck. She desperately prayed for oblivion to reach her, but she found that every time she closed her eyes to sleep, flashes of the white, faceless mass flitted through her mind, and left her quivering in their wake.

_This is not normal._

After several failed attempts at sleep, Lisa, defeated, sat up in the double bed. Her body was still sheened in a curtain of sweat, and her auburn hair was damp against the nape of her neck. Blood roared in Lisa's ears, and her heart throbbed painfully, unforgivingly in her chest. A sharp twinge in her stomach sent her lurching forward, almost causing her to dive off of the bed. She cried out at the intense pain and the sleeping form next to her jerked awake.

"Lisa," Will rasped out as he drowsily sat up beside her in their bed, "are you all right?"

Lisa began to nod her head, and then another stab of pain seared through her abdomen.

Hot bile rose in her throat, and she put a shaking hand to her dry mouth.

She was going to be sick.

Lisa flung the covers off of herself and lunged off the bed and into the adjoining bathroom, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the white porcelain bowl.

Once the trembling had subsided, Lisa rested her damp forehead against the cool surface of the bowl. She quietly began to cry and could barely make out Will's silhouette standing in the door way through her tears. He was saying something to her, possibly murmuring words of comfort and concern to her. Lisa really didn't know.

Another stab of pain.

Will bent down next to her and pulled her hair away from her face as she relieved herself once again. He lovingly stroked her hair, and Lisa closed her eyes, comforted by his touch, but not completely allowing it to soothe her. Horrible thoughts of two adulterous, entwined bodies, soft cries of "This is wrong," and white, faceless pulps plagued Lisa and left her a shuddering, sobbing mess.

_Something is wrong.__

* * *

_

**A/N**: So, what did you guys think? I'll have Chapter 2 up soon! Hope you liked!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note**_: Once again, I don't own anything related to the film Red Eye. Seeing as there was some confusion with this chapter the first time around, I took the time to re-write it, so hopefully there will be no more questions and everyone understands it. Let me know what you think! Any opinion is greatly appreciated.

Yours truly,

Chelsey Nova

P.S. Just to help you get a better image of what Will looks like... When I was writing this, I pictured him as a young Dermot Mulroney. Kind of the way he looked in "My Best Friend's Wedding." God, I love that movie.

* * *

A few nights after the episode in the bathroom, Lisa laid herself down in the double bed and settled herself on her side to face the man sleeping beside her. Her eyes traveled the length of his body, skimming over relaxed muscles and white flesh. She paid careful attention to the way he breathed, to the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, to the slight rasp that could be heard in his every breath if one listened carefully enough. His eyes fluttered behind his closed lids, and she wondered what he was dreaming about, or if he was dreaming at all. There were few times when she really knew what went on behind those beautiful eyes, and other times, she took a certain comfort in not knowing. 

A few mumbled words slipped from the slumbering man's mouth and released Lisa from her thoughts. She listened to his mutterings, and attempted to understand them, but found that she couldn't. The young man shifted onto his back and was still. She reached out and tucked a stray piece of his dark hair behind his ear and sighed warmly.

After lying in the same position for quite some time, she grew uncomfortable and rolled over onto her left side. The shiny glint of the diamond ring on the bedside table snatched her attention, and Lisa picked it up, and placed it on her ring finger. She twisted the decorated metal around on the base of her finger and let out a sigh that came from the bottom of her aching heart.

Will Jamison had unexpectedly entered her life two months after the incident on the plane. He was a classically handsome man, with sensitive brown eyes, wavy dark hair and a crinkly smile. Even Lisa had to admit she was attracted to him.

Will was a lawyer with his own successful practice, and a good friend of her father's. At Joe's gentle coaxing, Lisa accepted a first date with Will. And then a second. And then a third.

They dated exclusively for seven months. After two months, Will told Lisa he was in love with her.

Lisa didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't feel the same.

She was merely... attached to him, used to having him around. Nothing more, nothing less.

One would imagine that Lisa's lack of feelings towards the lawyer would prevent her from saying yes to his abrupt proposal.

But for some reason that Lisa couldn't understand to this day, it didn't.

Soon Lisa sported a princess-cut diamond ring on her left hand, which should have symbolized everlasting love for Will. Instead, it felt like a weight on her hand, a contradiction of her true feelings in its purest form.

The engagement thrilled everyone who knew them, especially her father, who took great satisfaction in the fact that he had been the one who'd introduced them. Everyone loved Will. And why shouldn't they? He was charming, pleasant, the true definition of a people person. He managed to make new acquaintances and potential clients feel immediately at ease with his outgoing personality and his quirky sense of humor, and he was honest without being hurtful. He was Mr. Personality. Everything he touched turned to gold.

William Michael Jamison was seemingly perfect, almost irritatingly flawless.

Lisa should have loved him. There were fleeting moments when she almost believed she could. But other times (and the more frequently recurring times, she noticed), she desperately wished she could lead a life without him.

Will was everything that Jackson Rippner wasn't, and it bugged the hell out of her.

_It shouldn't, _Lisa thought.

_But it does._

Lisa slid the ring off of her finger and set it down on its previous place on the table. She covered her face with her hands and sucked in a deep breath through her nose, counted to three in her head, and slowly released it through her mouth.

A pale hand reached over from the other side of the bed and softly clasped around her wrist. Lisa jumped at the sudden contact and her hands flew from her face. Bright blue eyes gleamed at her in the dim lighting of the room.

She had somehow woken him up. Of course, it wasn't a difficult thing to accomplish. He had trained himself to be a light sleeper; a skill that had saved his life on more than one occasion in his line of work. Though he had retired months before, he still had trouble killing those old habits.

His voice, still harsh with sleep, slashed through the silence of the bedroom. "Can't sleep, Leese?"

A tear trickled down her cheek at the thought of why she couldn't sleep, and she abruptly wiped it away with the back of her hand. She hated crying in front of Jackson. "No," she whispered.

He shifted closer to her in the bed and slid an arm around her stomach. Heat radiated from his presence and caressed the right side of her body. "What is it?"

Her head was heavy with thoughts of the faceless child, and of her poor fiance, but she highly doubted Jackson would be ecstatic to hear about either. "It's nothing," she lied. "I'm fine."

He was quick to call her bluff. He always was. Call it a manager's instinct. "You're lying to me."

Instead of lying further and digging herself a deeper hole, Lisa rolled out from beneath his arm and emerged from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

She could see Jackson's jaw tighten, but he didn't press her further, much to her surprise. "Fine," he said coolly, and rolled over on his side, leaving her faced with his back. There was an undefeated tension lingering beneath the surface of his surrender, and she knew this was not over.

He would pester her about it later, whether she was ready to talk or not.

Because he took such great pride in being an honest person, Jackson expected the same from everyone else.

Lisa knew this one simple lie had hurt him more than it should have.

But she was rapidly learning that when it came to a relationship with Jackson, truthfulness of the smallest degree was key.

Or else.

* * *

Lisa awoke the next morning to bright streaks of sunlight trickling into the room, a result of Jackson forgetting to close the drapes once again. She rubbed the sleep away from her eyes with her fists, and glanced over to the vacant spot on the mattress beside her. The cool surface of the sheets greeted Lisa's palms, informing her that her lover had emerged from the bed some time ago.

Jackson's disappearances were annoyingly frequent, and a voice inside her head told her that he wasn't as retired from his job as he had led her to believe. Lisa never asked where he flitted off to, or what he did while he was away, afraid that the answers to those heart-piercing questions would be more than she could bear. She never asked because it made things between the two of them easier. If she didn't inquire, he wouldn't have to hurt her. Simple as that.

However, it was mornings like this that made Lisa want to drop Jackson like a bad habit. Life could be lived peacefully, simplistically if she could cut Jackson out. The weight on her shoulders that she bore every day would dissipate, the dull ache in her heart would beat itself away, the dreams that she suffered through nightly would steal away from her head.

It seemed simple enough.

Of course, nothing is as it seems.

Of all people, Lisa Reisert understood this notion best of all.

Leaving Jackson behind and starting over new with her fiance should have been effortless, conceivably easy, considering who Jackson had been to her only a few months prior: her would-be killer, the man who had wanted her dead and would have done anything necessary to see it happen. Instead of gazing longingly into his chilling blue eyes, she should be clawing them out of his face. Instead of becoming breathless whenever he laid a hand on her, she should be violently recoiling from his touch. Instead of her heart pleasantly twisting and swelling in her chest whenever she caught sight of him, it should burn with the poisonous hatred she felt whenever his face came to mind.

_Nothing makes sense. _

_This is not how it's supposed to be._

_I should leave him and never look back._

Of course, it was easier for Lisa to think such things when Jackson wasn't in her line of sight.

God, when she was with him... everything seemed... slower. As though time stretched on forever. When his silhouette filled the doorway to his house, beckoning her inside, the world blurred around her and faded into a realm of dull grayness. His presence was intense, consuming, dominating, life-threatening. He thrilled Lisa in every possible way that Will had tried and failed. What Lisa lacked in the real world, Jackson more than made up for in the second life she lived with him.

Jackson Rippner was everything crucial, everything necessary for Lisa to survive.

_If only it wasn't so._

Lisa rose from the cool sheets and softly padded past the open doorway of the bathroom. The scent of Jackson's shampoo clung to the air just inside the room, permeating her senses and rendering her breathless. A warm, pleasant feeling washed over her, and she entered the bathroom in one quick stride. She flipped on the light beside the mirror and gazed at her reflection. She ran her fingers over the tender, bruised flesh along her neck and silently cursed Jackson. It looked like another week of wearing scarves and turtlenecks was in order.

Lisa snapped on the faucet and splashed her cheeks with lukewarm water. She caressed the beads of water away from her eyes and blindly reached over for the towel that was usually draped over the rack. Feeling nothing but the cool metal of the rack beneath her fingertips, she moved over to the cabinet beside the shower and slid the door open, grasping for a towel. When she found one, she padded her face dry and glanced around the bathroom. Jackson's towel, still damp from his earlier shower, hung on the hook behind the door. Lisa grabbed it and pressed the masculine-smelling fabric to her face. She inhaled the scent of Jackson deeply, and then exhaled. She knew if Jackson could see her doing this, he would think her soft and effeminately weak, and he would tell her so. Then she would rapidly remind him of the ass-beating he had suffered from her in the earlier months, and he would curse her for having too good of a memory.

Lisa smiled as she replaced the towel on the hook. Being in this room, overwhelmed by his scent, forced her thoughts back to the day that Jackson had surprised her in the shower.

Lisa had been in the middle of bathing herself when she had heard the soft click of the bathroom door opening and then closing. She could make out Jackson's lean, naked form through the glass of the door and she sucked in a breath as she watched him approach the shower.

Suddenly, the glass door opened, and Jackson joined her in the cubicle.

Without a word, he took the loofa from her hands and tenderly grazed it over the sensitive skin of her belly, the soft curves of her breasts, the jagged scar below her shoulder. Lisa knew the ugly mark never ceased to intrigue him, and he lingered there a little longer than necessary. Before long, she could see familiar sparks of anger surging in his eyes.

Holding her breath, she reached up and stroked the damp hair away from his electric blue eyes.

His name dropped from her lips in a breathless murmur.

"Jackson."

His head snapped upwards as her voice reached his ears, and the loofa fell from his hands. The blue fury slowly melted from his gaze, and he lowered his head to her own and kissed her.

Gently, without breaking the kiss, he pressed her into the wall of the shower and ran his strong hands down the length of her body before burying them in her damp curls. He made love to her then, beneath the rushing water of the shower head.

As their ecstasy exploded and then gradually subsided, Jackson rested his face in her hair and whispered that he loved her.

It was the first time he had ever uttered those words to her, and hearing them made Lisa cry.

Because as wrong as it was, she knew she felt the same.

The haze of the memory slowly melted away and Lisa was faced with reality once again. She gazed intently at her reflection in the mirror, as though it would provide her with the answers to the questions she was always asking.

_Why? _

_What good can come from this?_

_Why does it hurt so much?_

The woman in the mirror peered back at her, clueless, oblivious.

She had no answers.

Annoyed with the blank stare of her reflection, Lisa opened the mirror to reveal the medicine cabinet that dwelt behind it. Her fingers skimmed over Tylenol labels and Jackson's razor, and came to rest on a medium-sized glass capsule. A perfume bottle with clear liquid swirling inside.

Lisa grasped the bottle and brought it to her face. The name Vera Wang was intricately printed on the side of the glass.

Pricey. When Jackson pampered her, he never settled for anything less than top quality.

Lisa unscrewed the cap of the bottle and spritzed a shot of the perfume onto her wrist. She placed the bottle on the edge of the sink, let the perfume set for a few seconds and then lifted her wrist to her nose.

The overwhelming scent of lavender burned the sensitive caverns of Lisa's nose.

_Lavender!_, her mind screamed.

Images of a white, faceless girl streaked painfully through Lisa's mind and she let out a low moan.

"No... no," she murmured to herself as she yanked Jackson's damp wash cloth from the rack and viciously scrubbed the part of her wrist that had been assaulted by the putrid smell. "No!" she screamed. "What do you want from me?"

She hurled the wash cloth into the sink. The edge of the fabric caught the bottle and sent it hurtling to the floor. The glass capsule broke into a million pieces and before long, the scent of Jackson's shampoo evaporated and the sick, overpowering aroma of lavender wafted into Lisa's nose, causing her to sputter and reel backwards. Tiny shards of glass embedded themselves into the bare heels of her feet and she lowered herself onto the toilet lid.

The expensive smell of lavender clung to Lisa like a drowning person, seemed to seep into her pores, her eyes, her fingertips. Lisa choked and sputtered, lowered her head into her arms briefly, and when she glanced back up, her reflection peered back at her, taunted her with its watery green eyes and flaring nostrils.

Suddenly, Lisa was overcome by a thought that made her feel more pain than anything she had ever known.

_Lavender._

_Jackson bought me lavender perfume._

Realization hit her like a bullet in her heart.

Lisa recalled a night when she had come to Jackson with desire burning in her belly. It was a lust she had never felt before, a hunger that desperately needed to be sated.

When she arrived at his house, Jackson had taken her hands in his and he'd led her straight into the bedroom.

She remembered thinking that he must have been starved for her as well.

Passion had prevailed that night, had caused them to be blind, careless.

Jackson hadn't worn anything.

Lisa had pulled him deep inside... where they made a baby.

A little girl.

With no name.

With no face.

_Oh, God. What have we done?_

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks to all for your patience. I know it's been forever since I've updated this story, but I've been held captive in a state of writer's block for the past few weeks. I just now broke free, and this chapter is a result of said freedom. I hope you're all enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it. I'll have Chapter 3 as soon as possible. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed; all of your opinions are greatly appreciated and go straight to my heart. I love you all!

Until next time,

Chelsey Nova


End file.
